


Hang the World

by PeachyKeen_WithCream



Series: stop and hang the world with me [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-OT3, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8657959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeen_WithCream/pseuds/PeachyKeen_WithCream
Summary: Truthfully, Hank has no rights to be staring, but it doesn't stop him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'X-Men' nor am I profiting off this. 
> 
> I am (slowly) moving works onto this new account.

Hank plucks a piece of invisible lint from his pajama pants. 

The stripes are mostly faded from too many washings, riding high waters above his ankles whenever he sits down, and squeezing around his waist. Still, the pants smell faintly like home beneath layers of detergent and other various scents. It certainly gives reason to his mother's voice nagging in the back of his head about not staring. 

Truthfully, Hank has no rights to stare at anyone. Especially given his natural form is blue. It doesn't stop him from glancing at the couch though.

Alex keeps a secure arm around his brother, holding him in place as he sleeps. Sunglasses sit atop his head, hair curling at the nape of his neck. The other arm flops onto the floor, feet stretching to dangle over the couch. 

The voice of his mother carries a slightly scandalized horror to it. Brothers touching this way - inappropriate to stare, but worse to not stare? Hank plucks another piece of lint off his pants.

"Is your arm asleep?" Hank asks, "I could get you a pillow."

He could set up an entire fort of pillows. 

Alex wiggles his fingers on the floor, eyes flicking towards his brother. 

"My arm is fine. Do you think you could you design something for Scott? I know he's a prickly asshole, but he deserves to see."

A moment of comfortable silence stretches, accepted as thinking time. 

Hank thinks he might be the only one who keeps spare Ruby-Quartz around.

"I could try something. We do have rooms available, you know?"

Alex twists his fingers around until he can grasp a piece of hair, curling it around his fingers.

"I've slept in worse places."

He knows better than to ask. Instead he stares at the clock ticking past midnight. 

"Am I staring?" Hank blurts out, tugging furiously on his pajama pants. 

Alex stares up at the ceiling as the piece of hair slides from his fingers. 

"You were staring whenever we walked in the doors. Do you want to come lay with us?"

Hank stops tugging at his pants as the nagging is momentarily stunned into silence. Anxiety creeps in like a stomachache. 

The couch is nothing sacred to the mansion. It plays host to a multitude of people, but the idea of sharing with another, especially someone already attached to another person? 

He swallows around a lump in his throat, shaking his head.

"No, thank you. I have my own bed, besides there isn't room for me."

Alex cranes his neck, both wincing at an audible popping sound.

"There's always been room for you, bozo. I hang the moon for him, but I save the world with you."

He eyes the minuscule space of couch between Alex's body and the floor.

"I sometimes have difficulty containing the beast in the mornings."

"Your morning breath is worse."

Hank crosses the space of floor, breathing shallowly he lifts his arm. 

The process of getting situated onto the couch is slow, requiring directions on both ends. 

Finally though, he presses against the length of his body, swallowing thickly.

A tiny movement will throw him off the couch, but Alex curls an arm around his back, wiggling stiff, sore fingers. 

Scott shifts, groaning at the unexpected jarring. 

"I'll explain in the morning," Alex says, closing his eyes, "Go to sleep."

Hank ignores the nagging voice reminding him the lights are still on as he shudders.

**Author's Note:**

> I only have seventeen Moreno days of my semester. 
> 
> Afterwards, I have to complete a request. Then more and more of this OT3.


End file.
